I am pretty hairless. I mean, naturally, I'm NOT hairless, but I invest heavily in shaving instruments and, therefore, I stay pretty smooooth. Baby is not hairless. During football season he wanted to go hairless to see if it would help reduce rug burn (from his own personal rug). We fully used two bottles of hair remover to get the hair off his body and he STILL ended up having to shave some off. He is a very hairy man. Luckily, I'm kinda ole skool so it doesn' freak me out.
Every morning I iron my work clothes for the day. Because I'm a lazy bitch and a slouch, I have a bachelor-style ironing board that never leaves its spot in my bedroom. It's pretty much on the ground and I squat to iron each morning. Ironing also doubles as my daily exercise. Today I'm wearing a knee length tan skirt, a black shell and a long white belted top. My outfits are quite appropriate for my conservative work environment. I work in a downtown office building where the parking elevators are consistently packed to capacity and everyone rushes down the escalator to get to their respective desks so they can sit and do nothing but surf blogs and play Mafia Wars on Facebook. Hey, someone's gotta keep the economy moving.
This morning I packed myself into the parking elevator and made the obligatory rush down the escalator, but something felt....off. You know the feeling? Like maybe you have toilet paper on your shoe or your skirt is tucked into your panties or...WHAT'S THAT?? Is that a black string on my nice white top? Fuck.My.Life. The biggest goddamn pube I've ever seen has been squatting in a freakishly visible location on my top since I ironed it this morning.
I just wonder how many elevator patrons believe I have a full 70's bush. LOLOLOL!
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